Tag Archives: friend

The Six Month Plan

World English Dictionary
Business Plan
A detailed plan setting out the objectives of a business, the strategy and tactics planned to achieve them, and the expected profits, usually over a period of three to ten years.

Stacey Katheryn’s Dictionary

Business Plan


A detailed plan setting out the objectives of her business, all in her mind and scarcely scribbled in miscellaneous notes throughout office, the strategy and tactics planned to achieve such objectives to grow and develop her business, The Village Poet Press, into a small yet sustainable company with continual book sales in a period of Six Months.


In the essence of this quote, I will tell you why I am waiting six months to publish my next book and putting the focus on my “business plan”.  I hate the term “business plan” don’t you? It sounds all formal and unpromising and demanding. What I have is a solid understanding of exactly what I want this company to be and exactly how I am going to get there. That was all I needed for my massage practice, and it’s flourishing. That was five months ago.

Ah yes, I was going to tell you why. Because it’s summer, because I’m going to be moving soon, because I’m spending more time editing than I am writing, because my living space is being quadrupled as an office space for the business aspect of my practice, and my Village Poet office/writing/researching space and storage space and I am having a very, very difficult time with it. It’s going to reflect in my writing, and to put the best to the test, I’ve had ONE book sale on book four, and that was my best friend Jay (thank you, Jay).

I love my blog, I will definitely continue to blog, but from here I will be pursuing avenues of marketing and business development and essentially, what I’ve done for my massage practice. Hopefully by the end of these six months, I’ll have a readership. Book Five is a VERY important book to the series (and me), and I want people to enjoy it.

Also, once I move and have a bigger space for my writing, I’ll be able to WRITE and not have to worry about all the aspects that shouldn’t be allowed to enter my mind while I’m writing.

So, wish me luck! 🙂



“To survive, you must tell stories.”

-Umberto Eco


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What You Would Do if You Were Me

catgrin1What you would do if you were me and had…. A SHIT-load of leftover rice.

1. Get a pan.

2. Get a can of beans

3. Make enchilada sauce

Mix can of beans with leftover rice. Layer on corn tortilla shells with enchilada sauce. Throw in oven and pray.

Oh oh oh..... yum

Oh oh oh….. yum

What you would do if you were me and had…. No gas in your car.

1. Dig out all possible change in your vicinity

2. Pray

3. Baby talk your car into running just a little longer

4. Sweet talk your car into running just a little longer

5. Naughty talk your car into running just a little longer

6. Beg your car into running just a little longer (Come on, I’ve pretty much covered the entire verbal reproductive act here)

7. Finally dig up enough quarters to run just a little longer.

Magic, isn’t it?

Please baby, run just a little longer? Seriously, what car wouldn't for that?

Please baby, run just a little longer? Seriously, what car wouldn’t for that?


What you would do if you were me and had…. Insomnia and have tried EVERYTHING but sticking my head in the oven….

1. Take a shit-load of benedryl right before bed.

2. When you’re groggy in the morning (because of said benedryl) make the damndest strongest cup of coffee you can (it helps if you go to Italy, or have a friend in Italy send you a really awesome coffee maker because their coffee is STRONG- Thanks Jay 🙂  )

3. Don’t drink coffee after 3 pm (or your 2 benedryls turns into 3)



What you would do if you were me and had…. Your massage therapy license.

1. Absolutely opposite of all advice you give to your clients to keep healthy

Crap. I’m seeing a theme here.

I included this picture purely to say... WTF?? That poor kid, not even born and already heading into a life of sickness and dietary disaster.

I included this picture purely to say… WTF?? That poor kid, not even born and already heading into a life of sickness and dietary disaster.

Ooh! Dinner’s done!

Pray for my enchiladas, dear readers. And sleep well, my pretties!





“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity”

-Edgar Allan Poe


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Luckily, dogs don’t judge you when you’re tipsy

Ah, the title of this blog. You may be wondering.

Luckily, I’m not really tipsy, but I did go out drinking with friends and guess what- that was a first for me. No, I’m not calling my friends dogs, I’m referring to the moment I got home all my puppies did was jump on me and ask me for treats, lol. If only they knew.

I’ve never done that before. Never had a girls night out, that is.

What?? You may be wondering.

It’s true.

I found it a rather odd experience, perhaps the natural introvert in me, or the fact that I’ve been fucked over by friends so often that I could only imagine having true friendships with these girls will go terribly wrong (I know, wrong mindset. I’m terrible.) But I couldn’t help but keep thinking… Hm, I should blog about this.

Honestly, one of the things I love to do most in this world is talk to perfect strangers. Smile at them. Say hi. Get to know their likes and dislikes. But when it gets to true friendship- I’m at a loss. I’m nervous, scared even. I can talk to a perfect stranger and have the greatest time- talking to somebody really becoming my friend is unknown. Suddenly, I clam up, I sweat, I sound like an idiot, I don’t know what to say.

And girls. I don’t know how to be friends with girls. I’ve always been a tom-boy who wears the occasional dress and makeup, knows how to be a girl but doesn’t know how to act like a girl. Not modern day girl, anyway.

Boys, exes, clothes, shopping…. I didn’t know what to do with myself.

But the most intriguing part was seeing first hand the mating rituals of the human species, from the female side of it. See, I’ve had plenty of male friends and know how they view the female variation. I’ve never seen it from the female protrayal of the same mating game.

Essentially, the same thing.

Out with a single friend and a dating friend. Single friend looking for some love. Meets the eyes of someone across the room as we walk in. How can he tell she’s single? How can she tell he is? It’s amazing. Maybe it’s a scent we exude, the way we walk, the way we talk, the way we strut ourselves and position our bodies. The subtlty of it all. How the subconscious picks up on these cues so damn fast.

It’s amazing, and something I’m going to have to ponder for awhile. It really is rather an amazing thing.

But congratulate me, for I now finally have true proof that I am a real girl. I went shopping and had drinks with them, lol. Yay! It was fun. Glad to make new friends and get to know others better.

Of course, this is my second slightly alcohol-fueled night this week.  I better lay off the booze and get water next time. Yes, I think there will be a next time. I think I can get used to this “social life” thing. Whoever thought I would have such a thing?



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Christmas Blessings


My Christmas Blessings for the year 2012:

1. A brand new niece

2. Four other wonderful nieces that are and will always be my inspiration

3. The first snowflake on Christmas Eve so light you can see all six points of the ice crystal on your glove

4. Eggnog and coffee, and vegan Christmas cake

5. Destroyed bon bons in which turned into My Magical Coconutty Slivers of Life that people still loved

6. Seeing my grandparents again, which doesn’t happen nearly enough

7. Wonderful friends, family and followers

Thank you, everyone, all my dedicated readers and friends, for being part of my life! Have a very merry Christmas!!




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The good books make you cry

And here we are again! Day two, AVG free, and I only had to restart my computer four times before I could finally open firefox, and so far, it’s been letting me do everything I want! Hooray!

So, I’m going to write a real blog.

This one shall be about books. Why not? They are, after all, one of the things I am most passionate about, being a writer and all. And here’s where the title post came from.

I was having a discussion with a good internet friend of mine on the topic of The Hunger Games trilogy, and neither of us care for the ending. I will throw no spoilers here, so let’s just say it went against what we would have done, if we were the main character. (The old “what would you do in her situation” thing.) It was, admittedly, a traumatic ending. By the end of our long discussion, she was angry, and I was crying and we’d both been through a horrific turmoil of emotions in regards to the story, though we were on the same side of our discussion, and something she said made me realize…

It’s the good ones that make you cry. A truly great writer can make her readers cry or throw things and get angry or upset. It isn’t always about having to agree with the characters and the story and feel so safe and follow along with it in a cozy ‘nother-world, it’s about the emotions an author can invoke within her readers that counts. I’ve never once said I hated the books. I’ve said, I hate the ending, the ending sucked, she shouldn’t have blah blah… fill in the blanks. But never once did I say I didn’t like the writing. In a way, being able to have that reaction to the ending of a book, was relieving. Like I had the freedom to love the story and the characters and hate it so much I nearly threw my Kindle. I can now look back on these books with a little more fondness and understanding. Maybe now I can finally move on.

And it began me analyzing myself as a writer, as well. The ultimate question for me remains. Would I, as an author, have the guts to create an ending so powerful that it drove people to tears at the same time they were cursing the ending I’d written?

I guess time will tell.



P.S.  Read The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, and the other two books in her trilogy. I highly suggest it. Watch the movie too, while you’re at it. You might as well, they’re making four more of them.


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So here I am…

So here I am, writing braces on, gearing up and ready to write, and nothing. Nada. Niente. Nessuno! Nothing nothing nothing… So I figured I’d write about not knowing what to write.

No that isn’t completely true, I know what I need to write about, I know all the scenes I have picked out that I need to work on, but nothing’s coming to me and I think I know why. Because I had a really terrible day. One of those days in which your icky past walks through the door and figuratively bitch-slaps you in the face.  The type of day only vodka can cure.

But vodka is apparently gone for the day, and so I have… my blog. It’s 1:45 AM, nobody is exactly online, and I can’t just sit here listening to Lady Antebellum’s “Need You Now” over and over and over alone all night as I sip on my figurative vodka and cry… (and no, the lyrics don’t have anything to do with my situation, but the sound fits)

I’ve always said “I’m not going to use my blog to bitch about my days” well… ah, no one else is listening and who knows, this may just provide some form of entertainment for the folks at home, closing their internet browsers right now.

Besides, I shouldn’t let something get to me so bad that I stoop to alcohol in which to deal. I haven’t taken a drink in a year (ish) and I’m kinda proud of that. Trust me, it’s not the way to go.

When I say I “came face to face” with my past (which I didn’t actually say until now), I also only mean that figuratively, because like a little wuss, I avoided the lobby, and my duties as cashier, until said “past” and his little (“little”) girlfriend left. I give no more details except he is a major reason why my life has been miserable hell for the past three years. I couldn’t face him. So I asked my manager to take over for me while I went outside to cool off. Why?

I was afraid of my own response. I know this person. He would have tried to apologize, just to feel better about himself. Introduce me to his “little” girlfriend. Tell me how he’s been doing. Ask me how I’ve been doing (Maybe) probably in some form of “oh you’re working in fast food now?” (for anyone who doesn’t know, I admitted my profession in my last blog with a funny story , if you’re interested check it out 🙂 “It’s quite impolite to steal chocolate”)

Knowing myself, I would have… gotten more angry than I’d care to admit. (And that’s not admitting how angry I’d get) and let me tell you, well deserved- not incredibly attractive on my behalf. I’d rather come face to face with the direct cause of my three-years of misery, because at least then there was no out right betrayal.

I was lucky to have a manager who understood without question, and an awesome coworker who picked up my duties until said “past” was gone (to let you know, I was not lazy. I did their job while they did mine so no one got behind, and I waited until they were caught up with their stuff to go outside for a bit)

My awesome coworker even cleaned up the “soda spill” in the lobby. The one I was supposed to get, as cashier. The one everyone knew was my job to pick up, including the customers. The soda spill said “past” created. I told my awesome coworker a great big “thank you” for getting it for me. As I said, I was afraid of my own response, my reaction, what I’d do. I’m not cowering in terror at the thought of facing the real past or said “past” or coming face to face with the person himself.

But I honestly didn’t trust myself. I credit myself with a good deal of will power (trust me) but there are a couple of situations from my past in which I find myself completely unable to control my responses to and that’s one of them. One of which I’d find myself completely unable to keep my mouth shut, or my fist from their face at worst response. It was best to go outside for awhile, though it was a miserable half hour in which he spent taking his time “eating” spilling his soda and waiting to see if I’d make any kind of eye contact with him. I still helped other customers, I didn’t avoid being in his eyesight because I knew he’d already seen me and that would be just stupid to run away and pretend like he didn’t know I was there. But I would not go out into the lobby. And it helped NOTHING that he decided to sit right where he could stare at me the whole time I was cashiering.

He was a major cause of my pain, he abandoned me when I became disabled and needed him the most, he literally left me homeless (because I couldn’t, as I realize a good way to put it, fulfill his “manly needs” [I.E- Fuck him or clean his house]) and that’s all I’m going to say about that, because the details were much, much worse.

And there we have it, I’ve complained about my day. I think this would be a good time to write the scene in which the depressed young boy finally discovers what his destiny is, and starts a war to end an even bigger war and bring everyone together in peace (and fangs, claws, and wolves.)

Thanks for listening, my friends.



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Cruel and Unusual Employment…

I saw an awesome t-shirt today that said “I suffer from cruel and unusual employment” and it had me in laughter, particularly that I was having a bad day at work and hey, face it, most of us feel that way.

It also got me thinking about what I could do for work to not suck so much (for lack of better ways to put it- I have worse ways, if you want. But not better…) and I know it is the general ideal that I have not walked forward in my career but backward, and I’m back where I never wanted to be. Unfortunately, most of us (even those miserable to hell) are unable at the moment to change their jobs therefore we must deal with it. So I have come to the conclusion that instead of trying to change what we cannot, do something on the side that alleviates a bit of the stress. For instance, while at work, I think about the scenes I need to write and usually have them figured out by the time I get back, or I think about what workout I’m doing this night. And whereas it may not be nearly enough, I’m still working on it.

Anyway, aside from my blog writing, I also have decided it’s time to share some of my writing, so I’ll do what I always do, post a poem while I work on a story to share. (Beware: My poems are often “angsty”, lol.)

(The back story to this poem was simply about a dysfunctional friendship that ended badly.)

False Friendship

Sweet and twisted, fancy thoughts

Infatuation holds no form.

It took no time before I forgot,

How easily I am overblown.

A sweet word here, a whistle there,

The world is perfect ’round.

Always in the wrong, always on the rocks,

Always did I hit the ground.

One long year, a long damned year

Open up my eyes.

One long year, a long damned year

Open up inside.

How easily words can come and how far they can go,

And what a soul will do to get so far and then just go.

And what a person goes through when he says, when she says,

They need a bit of time to straighten things out in their heads.

And riding all that time I think I cried, I wish I died,

Living in so much pain again, again, and then I tried.

I think everybody’s looking for anything that they can find,

That tells them they were right when they were out of their minds.

Situations happen, and you pretend and you ignore,

Suddenly you’re not finding your way so I am walking out your door.

Now I hear little whispers in the wind that say once more,

I was wrong again; I trusted yet a one too much more.

But that’s ok, because time has gone,

And the sky has slowly cleared.

Friendship must be worth the price it takes to be clear,

All the false worship, relationship talk that never made sense,

I just know it lasted too long this false friendship.

Maybe you took from it something good,

And I’ll tell you I did too.

Despite I was nothing but sad and honest with you.

I never led you on, I never lied to you.

What I said I didn’t know, I didn’t know and still do not do.

Tell yourself what you want, I’ll tell you this too,

I have some good memories, and I hope that you do too,

But I really don’t know what the hell I ever thought I was with you.

Hope you enjoyed the poem!


P.S. A little factoid- I’ve been writing poetry since I was eleven years old, and have over four hundred poems to this date.


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If you don’t have anything nice to say…

… say it with a smile.

This post is a reminder to all that as in real life, characters can be jackasses too. I see too many stories in which all good characters are all good merry-sunshine and bad guys are all bad and evil and there is NO gray space.

Keep in mind that even “good” characters have their moments.  Another pet peeve of mine is when there’s a bad guy that turns good, they turn all good. No, it doesn’t work that way. Have you ever noticed how often people you consider good still put their feet in their mouths? How, upon occasion, even you do?

Well I suppose this is kind of a real-life and story-life referencing blog, in which I recently had a situation occur in which somebody I consider a friend said something insensitive without realizing it was and didn’t apologize for it. It got me thinking… hmm. Everyone hates that when it happens… and have I ever done that to somebody? Guaranteed I have, everyone has.

Then I got to looking through my characters and certain ones thinking “god this character is a goody-two-shoes. And here I thought they had quirk!”

No, in reality, people can be jackasses as much as the next jackass and it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with trying to be mean. It’s deeper than that. Perhaps it’s a topic that person feels so passionate about, their opinion just slips from their lips without thinking about how it’s worded, and perhaps feels so strongly about that topic that they feel no need to apologize for it. I noticed I am like that (upon occasion, most often I think about what I say first) but I am a firm believer in not apologizing for one’s opinion, even if it pisses other people off.

But there is a HUGE difference between that, and recognizing when how or what you said has hurt somebody close to you. But not to get insecure about it. It’s a fine balance. I feel even worse when I apologize or get insecure for something I just THINK might have hurt someone’s feelings.

I’ve strayed a bit, I suppose I’m simply saying- you know what? Just say it. If your character comes upon a situation they have a strong opinion about, just say it. But say it nicely. It’ll add conflict (the good kind), strengthen your readers opinion about that character (always a good thing) and if it’s not too mean, he/she won’t seem as mean.

Then again, I do have characters that will be jackasses and not apologize for their opinions no matter what, or much care about how they say things to others (even though they are generally good, honorable, kind people). They are most commonly (affectionately) referred to as, what else?… Jackasses.

“He shows up like a mist out of the blue. A jackass mist. That appears anytime you need a jackass.”

One of my favorite lines (dialogue) in my second series. (Character one has a habit of sneaking about and startling people. Character two [the person the dialogue belongs to] was pissed at him for an as yet unknown reason.)

I’m also saying don’t judge, people most often just don’t know how they sounded. Another good bit of conflict and character definition- something for them to improve upon. (Turns out, character number one had said something insulting to character two without realizing it. Of course, character two spent all book being pissed off in a funny bitter way, and character one had no clue as to why. It created neat conflict between two friends and they eventually sorted it out and learned from their mistakes, like any other conflict-resolution in story telling.)

But also keep in mind- not always is it good to voice your opinion (for instance, if you know it’s going to hurt someone’s feelings or cause a catastrophe) in which case, if you want even more conflict, don’t hesitate for your character to voice their opinion.

Well I’ve stated my opinion.

Wait, not all of it.

I must add, there are cases, where people ARE just jackasses, in which you should ignore them, and not let what they say get to you no matter how much you want to slug them for it. Also a neat conflict not-so-resolution.



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When you’re gone….

For some reason right at this exact moment I began thinking about death. I know it sounds odd,  but for a novelist it’s pretty normal to just suddenly begin thinking about odd things out of the blue. It’s not until you start saying this stuff out loud that people think you’re crazy.

So I decided to blog about it. Not about death specifically, but a major life change in which evokes a sense of grief or longing, perhaps a loss of any sort. A person, a pet, a friend, even emotions such as love.

I’ve had my characters go through situations of which involve a sense of grief, perhaps none more than the man who lost the love of his life, because I don’t think I could write something like that again for awhile, but on smaller scales.

It’s hard to write emotional scenes without genuinely feeling whatever you are trying to express on paper (or Microsoft Word, lol). Sometimes I use music to help with that, but I usually end up bringing up some kind of emotion that was already there. So I have to wonder why I’m so intent on writing this scene today.

I don’t know. It’s not useless to figure out why, but I think I may just go with it instead, and just buy myself some chocolate to cheer up when I’m done writing 😉



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